This is the big city.
Some people here steal for pleasure. Some people steal just because it’s there – you never know.
My name is Crawford. I’m a detective.
I was working the robbery detail when a lady in distress called in…
“There’s been a robbery!” the lady said.
“Yes Ma’am – what happened?”
“My credit card got skimmed.”
“Okay ma’am, I’ll need to gather the facts of the case. You say your credit card got scanned?”
“No – skimmed. Someone skimmed my card and PIN number and made illegal purchases.”
“Ah – so it was a skimming scam.”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“How much got skimmed?”
“They scrammed with over a thousand dollars.”
“That’s a lot of scratch. Do you know what else the skimmer scammer scored?”
“Skirts.”
“Skirts. I see. Do you know the identity of the skimming scam schemer?”
“His name is Scott.”
“And where does Scott live?”
“Scarboro.”
“Of course. So Scarboro’s Scott is the scheming skirt-scoring skimmer scammer. Where did the skimming scam skulduggery take place, Ma’am?”
“Near a school.”
“Now let me get this straight. You say your credit card got skimmed for skirts and scratch by Scott from Scarboro, a scummy school skimming schemer scamp. When did you succumb to this scalping scam?”
“Oh, it must have been around seven. I was feeling squeezed for time.”
“Did you see any other clues at the scummy skimming scam scene?”
“Scads. There was scaffolding around the bank machine…maybe he climbed over it?”
“Ah, so Scott could be a scaling scamming scofflaw operating a skirt-scoring skimming scheme. Anything else?”
“I also found a piece of scarf at the scene.”
“Color?”
“Scarlet.”
“That figures. So we’re looking to scuttle Scarboro’s Scott, a scarlet-scarfed scaling scammer scum scoring skirts with a skimming scanner scam near a school. Is that about the size of it?”
“Yes. Do you think you’ll be able to find this scabrous school scheming skirt-skimmer scum?”
“I’m skeptical. Scrofulous scheming skirt-scoring skimmer scum usually scatter from scoping scams. If this scarlet-scarfed scamp from Scarboro hasn’t scrammed, we’ll do a scope and scoop after we scrutinize the scanty schedule of known scurrilous skimmer scallywags.”
“Thank you, officer. Would you like me to do anything else?”
“Answer me this – are you familiar with Carson’s Copper Clapper Caper of 1968?”
“No – is that important?”
“Not really.”
My name is Crawford. I’m a detective.
My father was Captain of the Crawford Clippers Clubbing Clan.
But that’s another story.